


A Doctor, A Captain, and A Tailor

by Xenobotanist



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bondage, Everything happens in roughly this order, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, More Fluff, Multi, Oral Sex, Post-Coital Conversation, Sex Toys, Sex with yourself but not masturbation, Shameless Smut, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, and then there's fluff, i love making up tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26310280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobotanist/pseuds/Xenobotanist
Summary: A smutty romp between two Bashirs and one Garak, followed by a more intimate coupling.(formerly titled "Duck Duck Goose")
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Mirror Julian Bashir, Julian Bashir/Mirror Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 23
Kudos: 80





	1. Captain and Doctor Bashir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a brief, filthy encounter and that was about it. But it seems I can’t write about sex without lots of deliberation and explicit consent. Unless it involves an already-established couple, which this does not. And I couldn’t just leave it hanging at the end, so now there’s also post-coital conversation.  
> I wrote this over a period of 8 hours and intend never to read it again.  
> Takes place somewhere around Season 4.

“I’m not talking to you.” Julian kept his head resolutely down, his eyes on the padd. He had no idea what the article was that he was supposed to be reading; the words just kind of glowed on the black background as he stared into the middle distance through them.

“Just hear me out,” Captain Bashir insisted in a voice that sounded much too close to Julian’s own for comfort. It was like talking to himself. Which he was. In a way.

A ruder, gruffer, scruffier version of himself.

He caved, glaring up at the man across the replimat table. “Captain Sisko said to steer clear of your whole crew until your ship is repaired. And we’re to avoid being caught alone with any of you at all costs. So kindly _get...lost._ ”

It was hard talking to himself like that. It felt unkind and hurtful, and if anyone had spoken to _him_ that way, his feelings would be more than a little bruised. But he also knew from experience that tangling with the Terrans (or anyone, for that matter) from the Mirror Universe could have Dire and Unpleasant Consequences. Besides, the resistance captain _was_ somewhat abrasive.

“We _are_ lost,” Bashir smirked back. “And I’m bored out of my skull. We don’t have any credits, so we can’t get drinks, visit the holosuites, or play Dabo. What else is there to do on this dump?”

Julian didn’t have a good answer to that. It also made him take a serious look back at his past habits with a cautious analysis. Was that really all he did for fun? “There’s darts,” he offered lamely. “And the racquetball court. Or the gym. You could get in some exercise.”

Bashir flopped back in his seat. “I can’t believe my doppelganger is so _dull_. You’re a _doctor._ Don’t you at least have access to some good recreational substances? Binji weed, smoke flowers, psionic shrooms… _something_?”

“I’m sure you could get your hands on binji weed easily, but you’d have to be willing to speak to a Bajoran. I haven’t heard of the others, but I’m sure there’s a couple listings in the replicators you might like.” Julian picked his padd back up, determined to ignore the captain until he got fed up and left.

But Bashir just continued sulking in the chair, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was clear something was on his mind. He scratched at the stubble on his jaw, considering what to say next. He came to a decision, scooting forward to prop his arms on the table. “What about sex?”

Julian dropped his padd, then got mad at himself for the loss of composure. “What about it? You’re not even supposed to be in this universe. Find someone from yours if you’ve got an itch to scratch. Aren’t you and Jadzia, you know, a _thing_?”

Bashir scoffed. “Just because we’re shagging doesn’t mean we’re a couple. Where do you think she is right now? Off with that Lurian.”

“ _Morn_ ? But he turned down _this_ Jadzia. What makes yours any different?”

A shrug. “From what I can tell, not much.” He picked at something between his fingers, his head tilted carelessly. Julian knew the look. He was finally getting around to why he’d come over in the first place. “What about you and me?” he asked, ultra-casually.

This time, Julian’s grip tightened on the device in his hands. “Excuse me?”

Bashir shrugged again. “You know. You and me. Sex.”

“I- uh. Wha-” Julian couldn’t form a coherent thought, much less a full sentence.

Bashir leaned forward, gaze heating. “You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered. Thought about it. What you feel like. What you _would_ feel like.” He licked his lips. “Now you’ve got the chance. And so do I.”

A dozen scenarios flashed through Julian’s head at the speed of light. He tried to shut them away, but several of them escaped and made a mad flight for his nether regions. 

“I can tell you want to,” Bashir growled. “Your eyes got all big, and your face is red. I bet it feels hot.” It did. “And I bet your cock is already getting hard, too.” It was. 

Julian _knew_ that he’d been commanded to avoid the crew from the mirror universe. He _knew_ that going anywhere behind closed doors with a Terran ran the risk of being kidnapped and stolen away. But it’s not every day that one is presented with the chance to shag himself. And he _knew_ Julian Subatoi Bashir. This version hadn’t approached him with kidnapping or subterfuge on his mind. He’d given in to plain old hormonal curiosity. He was looking for physical gratification. For something a little more stimulating than just a quick wank.

He was right. Julian _had_ thought about it. On more than one occasion.

Maybe it could be a little fun?

A foot trailed its way up the side of his shin. It slid slowly over his uniform, tickling and burning at the same time. The pressure in his groin increased. 

Bashir grinned, knowing he’d won.

Julian swallowed. “I’m, ah, going back to my quarters to rest. You should stay here and get something to eat, since the rations on your side aren’t exactly enough to live off of. Don’t come visit me. I’m keeping the door locked, so you wouldn’t be able to get in anyway.” There. He’d said what he was supposed to say. And the challenge was made. If Bashir knew him so well, then he’d be able to figure out the code to get in. If not, then Julian didn’t have to worry about what was likely to be a sizable mistake. 

But it was a mistake that he sorely hoped he’d get the chance to make.

He got up and headed for the habitat ring. He wondered what Garak would think about this. They’d been sleeping together for some time now, but they weren’t exactly exclusive. In fact, their relationship mainly consisted of occasional midday lunches and late night fucks. 

Besides, fooling around with your mirror universe self was more like masturbation anyway, right?

As soon as he entered his living space, he started gathering everything of value and hiding it out of sight. He didn’t think he’d steal from himself, but desperate times create desperate people, and Captain Bashir struck him as a slightly less inhibited variation of Julian.

Not five minutes later, he heard a code typed in. The computer made its standard _bip-buuuurp_ of an incorrect entry. Another code, another failure. He felt like he ought to go sit down on the couch and pretend like he was busy doing something, but he couldn’t get his feet to take him away from the door. So he just stood there listening to the codes, rejections, and swears from the other side until with a _beep-beep_ the door hissed open.

A cocky and familiar grin greeted him. Bashir took a long stride inside, forcing Julian to take a step back. The pursuit continued, and Julian found himself getting hard just from the chase. When his legs hit the arm of the couch, he knew he was caught.

“I hope you’ve got the night off, because there’s quite a few things I’d like to try with you,” Bashir purred. He ran his eyes down Julian’s torso, stopping at the bulge below his waist. “And I think you know what they are.” He reached out to Julian’s face, wrapping a hand around his head to draw him in. His first thought was that it was a bit odd to be pursued by yourself, but then he was being kissed in exactly the manner he liked, and it ceased to matter.

They pressed against each other, matched length for length. Bashir’s clothes were baggy over his frame, but even through the thick, ratty material, Julian could feel his erection straining behind the fabric. He groaned, rutting their hips together, knowing just how to push and grind for both their pleasure. Bashir delved into this mouth deeply, his whiskers scratching at Julian’s face while they ran their hands down up and down each other’s backs. 

Curious, Julian reached up between Bashir’s shoulder blades and scratched a long line down his spine. The captain hissed, his knees going weak. Yes, they seemed to have that in common. The first time Garak had done it to him, the poor tailor thought he’d broken Julian. 

Bashir grabbed Julian’s arse cheeks in both hands, forcing their bodies closer together. Julian felt a heat rising in his core as his cock began to throb. He untucked Bashir’s shirt as they continued what could roughly be construed as a kiss until they separated so he could pull the garment over his head.

“I was thinking we could take turns,” Bashir suggested. “You do me, I’ll do you.” He pulled a dirty and scratched coin out of his pocket. “Winner gets first choice.” 

“Since it’s your coin, I get to make the call,” Julian asserted. “Heads.” 

Bashir grimaced but flipped. It was heads. “What’ll it be then?”

Julian didn’t want to be greedy, but he _had_ won the coin toss. And he was going to be returning the favor anyway. “Well, I _have_ always wondered what my cock feels like…”

Bashir leered. “I know.”

They both began divesting their clothes. Naked and facing each other, they each took stock. Of course they were the same height and relatively same build. Due to his life as a slave, Bashir was even leaner than Julian, but his muscles were much more defined as well. He was also covered in a multitude of scars and looked generally unkempt. He scowled at the washed, unblemished, and well-manicured body preening in front of him. “Well, at least one of us is pretty,” he grumbled. “How do you want to do this?”

Julian looked around the room. What had he always wanted to try but never been afforded the chance? His eyes settled on the replicator. “Before we go any further, give me a second.” He hurried over and typed in a command. A bottle of lube appeared. He waved it at his partner as he returned. 

Bashir took it, reading the label. His eyebrows raised. “We don’t have any of this on the other side. Remind me to dial up a whole barrel before I leave.” He turned back to Julian. “Well?”

Julian was caught between being adventurous and feeling shy. He was plagued by the worry that whatever he chose, he was going to judge himself on it. So he feigned nonchalance. “Surprise me.”

Bashir palmed himself, running his hand up and down lazily while he surveyed the furniture. “Alight. That couch looks nice. Over here.” 

Julian wandered over and sat down, only to hear his mirror image grunt with frustration. 

“No. Up.” It felt bizarre to feel his own hands grabbing him around the chest to lift and rotate him. He was coaxed onto his knees, bent over the back of the sofa. Behind him, he could hear the wet sound of liquid being squirted and applied vigorously. Captain Bashir certainly didn’t waste any time. 

“Are we just, ah, rushing right into this?” Julian asked. “I thought you wanted to try some things.”

“Yeah. I will when it’s my turn. You’re the one who was so anxious to stuff himself. You want a little warm-up first?”

Despite the coarse language, Julian’s cock stirred at the thought of what his equivalent might ask of him down the line. Just how adventurous was he feeling? “Yes, something beforehand would be appreciated.”

A line of icy fire ran down his spine as nails were raked down his back, a copy of what he’d done to Bashir earlier. His hips bucked. The cushions beneath his knees sagged as the figure moved up behind him. One hand grasped his hip, and the other worked its way around to his front. It scratched lightly over the crease where his thigh met his groin, and all of the muscles in the vicinity clenched in anticipation. The fingers brushed through the trimmed bush and downward to cup his balls. Curling his hand around them, the other man tightened and gave a firm yank. Julian hissed between his teeth, pain and pleasure warring between his legs. One finger trached up and down the seam between the orbs, then the thumb rose up to tickle at his perineum. He loosed a cry as his legs jerked. Bashir kneaded into his hip while returning to a couple more gentle tugs on the sensitized tissue. Julian grasped the back of the couch and closed his eyes as the fingers danced over everything except for his member and his hole. It was blissful torture, the kind which he often desired but rarely had the patience to perform on himself.

Each leg dipped as Bashir walked his way forward on his knees, wedging his erection between the cheeks of Julian’s arse. A hot, moist tongue licked a stripe up his back, turning the sharp twinges in his groin into a throbbing supernova. He moaned, thrusting backward.

They were interrupted by the sound of the door hissing open.

“Oh. Oh my. Pardon my-” Garak broke off.

Julian froze. His first instinct was to throw himself over the couch and cover up, but Bashir’s hand hadn’t released him. If anything, it gripped tighter.

“Hullo, _Garak_ ,” Bashir greeted him. “You dress much better than the Cardie on my side.”

“Garak, this… ah, isn’t what it looks like,” Julian babbled.

The tailor angled his head and showed no signs of departure. “I’m quite sure that it is.”

“What are you doing here?” Bashir asked. He finally relinquished his hold and stood up brazenly, crossing his arms. Julian squirreled his way to the back corner of the couch and threw a cushion over his crotch. Not that it mattered. What he was hiding was proudly on display not a meter away.

“I observed your _discussion_ in the replimat and saw the doctor leave. When you followed a minute later, I became suspicious of your intentions. So naturally, when I heard him cry out a moment ago, I feared for his safety.” His eyes flicked to Julian and then away again. Behind the mask, it was difficult to read if he was confused, disgusted, amused, or some strange combination of the three. “I see now that my concern was misplaced. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave the two of you to your… previous endeavor.” He sketched a half bow and turned to leave.

“Wait.” Bashir strode over, giving Garak a quick once-over. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to fuck a Cardie. I heard they don’t have the same,” he gestured to his lower half, “ _equipment_ as humans.” Ignoring the frown and narrowed eyes, he continued, looking back at Julian for a moment before returning. “I bet _he_ has, too. You and the doctor ever bump uglies?” 

Garak blinked a few times. “Is that some sort of euphemism? If so, it’s a very poor one. I don’t find anything about the humanoid form to be particularly unattractive.”

The captain stalked around him, analyzing his neck, shoulders, rear. “How far down do those ridges go?”

“I refuse to dignify your lewd attempts at seduction with a response.” 

Bashir raised his eyebrows at Julian, still silent in the background. “Well? Have you seen him naked before?”

Julian gulped. Watching himself prowl around Garak was terribly arousing from this perspective. And even though the Cardassian’s expression appeared well contained, his neck ridges had begun to swell and darken. Garak was _not_ unaffected. A completely unexpected surge of jealousy welled up inside. Garak was _his_ , not Bashir’s. “I don’t see how that’s any business of yours,” he retorted.

Bashir jerked back in surprise. “But you’re _me!_ ” he complained, his cocky voice turning indignant. 

Garak chuckled. “You certainly sound like him.”

Bashir looked back and forth between the two of them. He only needed a moment to draw his conclusion. “You two _have_ shagged.” A wicked smile bloomed. “Julian, my boy, have you ever had a threesome?”

Before answering, Julian contemplated Garak. His stance had altered almost imperceptibly, and he now appeared somewhat uncertain. Although his ridges and eyes remained as dark as before. He swallowed, suddenly feeling very out of his depth. And still incredibly aroused. The tension built between the three of them as each entertained their own thoughts but refused to voice them.

Bashir made the first move, swaggering back in front of Garak. He reached out boldly, grabbing between the man’s legs. Garak’s hand whipped out, grabbing hold of his wrist tightly enough to make the human wince. He executed a little twist, and the next thing Julian knew, Bashir was on his knees, gaping up desperately at the Cardassian. Garak ignored the pleading look and turned to Julian. “What are your thoughts on this, my dear?”

Julian’s jaw dropped. He snapped it shut, pulse and mind racing wildly. Was Garak really open to joining the two of them? “I… I suppose trying it once could be interesting. But- But only if you’re okay with it, Garak.” In their more intimate moments, the tailor permitted him to use his first name, but here--with Bashir present--he felt compelled to withhold that information. He watched as the Cardassian loosened his hold on the wrist in his hand, then let it go. The human pulled his arm back, grimacing, but didn’t rise from the floor.

“Perhaps, as you say, _once_ could prove entertaining.” Garak eyed the figure at his feet. “But I would prefer to maintain a distance between myself and this… slovenly Terran.”

“You’re lucky I’m even willing,” Bashir snapped back. “On _my_ side, nobody would touch your counterpart with a ten-meter pylon. But I think we could work something out.” He stood slowly, brushing himself off, before leering at Julian. “I believe that makes you a _middle._ ”

Julian’s breath caught. He _had_ been part of a threesome once. But it had been a simple instance of jamaharon with two Risian females, one riding his hips and the other his face. He didn’t think that experience would apply well here.

And so, five minutes later he was faced with a totally new situation that he hoped would never be replicated again. For as titillating as the encounter was likely to be, it was also proving quite awkward. In fact, Julian Bashir: promiscuous xenophile, was the least comfortable of the three present. He shifted between feet awkwardly, watching Garak undress in the bedroom as Bashir wandered around the living room, lifting and inspecting various picture frames, sculptures, and vases. A curious delight flashed through him when he realized that most of them had been gifts from Garak.

“We don’t have to do this,” the Cardassian murmured quietly. He had removed his shoes and tunic, but the trousers remained, loosened about his waist. “As enthusiastic as you appeared before, I sense more than a little trepidation now.” He smiled gently. “I admit to having misjudged you. I honestly thought you’d jump at an opportunity like this.”

Julian huffed quietly. “You know, I thought I would too. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. You and I have… been together, and he’s just... well… _me_.”

Garak fiddled with the ties on his remaining garment. He leaned forward confidentially. “If I may share a little secret with you, my dear.” Julian nodded. “I knew _precisely_ what was going on when I opened your door. I could smell both of your pheromones all the way through the corridors of the habitat ring.” 

“Elim!” Julian whispered loudly, laughing. “Did you really?” At the saucy smirk thrown his way, he checked back at the figure in the other room. Bashir had found the horga'hn. Of course. “What do you say we get started, and he can join us if he wants?”

“That sounds like a reasonable proposition.” Garak removed his last item of clothing, and they both crawled onto the bed. Forgetting all about the third party, Julian pushed Garak down with a firm hand to the chest and joined their lips. The gray, smooth ones parted eagerly, allowing his tongue entrance. He ran his hand up to the ridged shoulder where he began massaging as they explored each other’s mouths. Heat slowly built back up in his lower back and then down into his groin as they relaxed into the embrace. He ground his engorging and rising prick into a scaly haunch, gasping at the cool friction it produced. Garak moaned lowly, grabbing hold of his waist to drag him up on top. Ever the perfectionist, he lined up Julian’s erection exactly between the ridges of his ajan. Julian groaned deep in his throat, using his toes to push himself up and down along the seam that ran along the entirety of his shaft.

Bashir cleared his throat from behind them, hands on his hips at the foot of the bed. “Am I welcome here, or should I just bugger off?”

Julian and Garak gazed into each other’s eyes, asking and answering silently. The Cardassian spoke. “You may join us, as long as you do not not become a nuisance.” Julian pressed his lips together to prevent bubbling into laughter.

“Wait a second here. This was all my idea to begin with. I think I deserve a little say in what we do.”

Garak lifted his head, raising his eyebrows in challenge. “I suppose you have a suggestion?”

In place of an answer, the captain grabbed Julian by the ankles and jerked him down the bed until he was on his hands and knees at the very edge, his feet jutting into empty air. Bashir bent over him, also grabbing Garak by the ankles. He tugged him down until his feet were under Julian, then let go. He took a step back, reaching under and between the doctor’s legs to grasp Garak’s feet, dragging him down the bed, blanket bunching up beneath him, until his legs draped over the end. 

With Garak positioned on his back, feet dangling, and Julian straddling his waist, Bashir stood arrogantly and observed, pleased. He lined himself up behind his mirror image. “Yes, I think this will do nicely.”

Oh stars, this was really happening. Julian reached down and dipped his fingers into Garak’s slit. It was plenty lubricated already, and the Cardassian gave him a sly smile. Julian spread his legs, lowering his now-throbbing prick into the opening. It was just as smooth and slick as always, although tighter than usual with Garak's legs pressed together beneath him. He slid in, centimeter by centimeter, watching every twitch of his face and feeling every hitch of his breath. Completely sheathed, he settled their chests together and braced himself with a hand on each shoulder. The position not only created a delicious pulling in his thigh muscles, but also spread the cheeks of his rear wide open. The chilled air that entered his cleft was soon replaced by a finger sliding in between them. Julian spasmed against Garak, and they both gasped. The digit delved in and out a few times before a second was added, scissoring efficiently. He could feel the ring of muscles give way in anticipation. Closing his eyes, he began to kiss Garak.

Their mouths melded together in practiced synchrony and he lost himself for a moment in the feeling of the cool, sculpted body under his own and the sensual touch of lips and tongues as they lapped at each other hungrily. His kiss stuttered as Bashir breached his rim, then deepened and flared when he introduced teeth, nipping at Garak’s mouth and tugging his lip. The fullness in his rear increased, filling him slowly and steadily. 

Julian had never been so stimulated before in his life, his senses being assaulted on several fronts: scales under his fingers, fluid mouth pressed to his, ridged skin molded to his chest, Garak’s hands on his shoulders, Bashir’s bruising his hips, his own cock wrapped in the sweetest, most viscous folds, while another pulsed inside his tight sphincter. It was all so much that he simply lay there for a minute, letting the sensations surround and fill him.

But then Bashir began a slow withdrawal, and Julian followed suit, pulling out of Garak. Bashir rammed roughly back in, also forcing him to reenter. Someone whimpered, and for the life of him he had no idea who. He could feel Bashir wrap himself over his back, kissing along under his shoulder blades in a surprisingly tender way. He thrust ever so lightly into Julian, who in turn wriggled side to side inside Garak. The Cardassian shuddered, his alien pr’Ut everting between them. As lips and tongue caressed his back, Julian decided to treat Garak in a similar fashion, placing pecks along the tough gray chest before moving upward to suckled on a neck ridge. The three of them writhed gently together in an even and sensual rhythm that came naturally. 

Garak kneaded his upper arms, working up over his shoulders and then onto _Bashir’s_ shoulders. Julian’s eyes flew open and he lifted his head to look into the dilated blue eyes. Garak smirked at him and jerked his hands in a sharp southward movement. Julian didn’t feel it directly, but he knew that the tailor had just scratched Bashir’s back hard enough to draw blood. The captain screamed out, hips bucking against the doctor’s. “That _hurt_ , you fucking Cardie,” he snarled. But his pace increased, setting up a furious pounding into Julian that echoed into Garak, who began undulating his hips in abandon.

They all began to pant and moan as Julian rode Garak and was ridden in turn, hands grasping and sliding in erratic patterns, all of them beyond caring any longer who was touching who. Julian’s thighs burned and his cock was filled with fire, his arse packed tight and prostate pummeled. It was so much that he wasn’t sure he would even be able to come. It was difficult to maintain focus, much less let the feeling build in any one spot. But then Bashir lifted off of him to stand almost straight and grabbed him by the hips, plunging Julian forward and backward on his prick. Julian grabbed Garak by the shoulders and buried his face in the Cardassian’s chest, helpless against the onslaught. Garak whimpered as his nails dug between the scales of his ridges and he began to cry out the doctor’s name. “Julian! Julian, Julian…”

The erotic loss of Garak’s control finally undid him, and spikes of flame shot through him, flaring in his lower core, spunk shooting out of his member and into the the ajan pulsing around him. He clenched up as the orgasm peaked, muscles tightening mercilessly around Bashir’s cock, which surged inside him, coating his insides. 

Garak slackened under Julian, and he realized the tailor must have come at some point too. He collapsed on his chest, breathing heavily. Bashir withdrew and then flopped down on the bed next to them. The next several minutes were accompanied only by deep and shuddering breaths, occasionally punctuated by the tremors of an aftershock. Julian pulled out of Garak, feeling the pr’Ut already retracting back in. The three of them moved up the bed, and Julian slid over along Garak’s side and tucked his head into the thick shoulder as he had so many times before. Only this time, another figure rolled up from behind, spooning him. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that they were a perfect fit. 

“That wasn’t half bad,” Bashir mumbled gruffly into Julian’s hair. “I got to fuck a Cardie with actually havin’ to, you know, fuck a Cardie.” Julian kicked him in the shin.

“And I got fucked into the mattress by two absolutely delectable young men,” Garak added. “I may have to add that to my life’s crowning achievements.” Julian really didn’t know if he was teasing or not. “And what about you, my dear?” Garak kissed his forehead. “Was it all you hoped for?”

Julian wanted to form a reply, but the strenuous exercise followed by comforting pressure on both sides and topped off with lips on his brow had filled him with a languorous lassitude. “Mmmm,” he mumbled, and fell into sleep.


	2. All Tied Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t even plan on a second chapter, but I think this one’s actually hotter than the first.

When Julian awoke an indeterminate amount of time later, Bashir had disappeared. He was now alone spooning Garak, and they were both tucked up tight under the thick comforter. His thighs and arse ached distantly, but overall he felt rather relaxed and content. He snuggled into Garak’s back, listening intently to the inhale and exhale. He was awake. “How are you doing, love?”

“Oh, just fine, my doctor. Your counterpart excused himself. I fear he may have discovered a few latinum strips in my pocket and absconded with them. No doubt even now he’s losing them at the Dabo table.”

Julian snorted. “You didn’t have to  _ let  _ him steal your money.” He was willing to bet Garak had actually offered them as a bribe to leave.

“A small price to pay for me to remain in your company,” the Cardassian returned warmly. “As attractive as Captain Bashir may be in his own roguish way,  _ you _ are a much more lively and proficient conversationalist.” He rolled over so they were face to face. “I do hope you’ve kept up on your immunizations, Doctor. Who knows what sorts of diseases they carry on Terok Nor.” 

Julian rolled his eyes. “Of course I have. Especially since I know you haven’t. And don’t tell me you got them from Nurse Jabara instead, because it would have shown up in your file.”

Garak’s eyes opened wide in indignance. “Just where would I be picking up diseases from?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who didn’t want to be exclusive, so I assume you’re seeing other people.” Julian knew he sounded a little petulant, but couldn’t help himself.

“Just because you can’t keep your uniform on around every loose skirt, skant, or trousers, doesn’t mean I conduct myself in the same manner.” Now Garak sounded peevish.

“I’ll have you know that I haven’t taken a single lover to bed since you and I started whatever this is.”

Garak frowned. “Is that so.”

Enjoying the flare of tenderness that settled somewhere in the center of his chest, Julian ran his hand over the Cardassian’s mussed hair, smoothing it. “Elim. There’s only been you these past 11 months, 4 days, and 22 hours.” 

“And Bashir.”

Julian sniggerd silently. “And Bashir.” Recalling their conversation from earlier, he leaned forward. “If I may share a little secret with you.” Garak tilted his head inquisitively. “In the replimat... I knew you were watching us.”

The blue eyes darkened perceptibly under their ocular ridges. “You’re more devious than I give you credit for, my dear doctor. Just when I think I’ve gleaned every last one of your secrets and solved your mysteries, you offer one more. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of our time together.”

Coming from Garak, that was practically a love confession. “There’s still plenty you don’t know about me,” Julian replied. Especially one BIG secret that he may share one day. If anyone could keep it for him, it’d be the ex-spy. “So I guess you’ll have to stick around.”

“That sounds delightful,” Garak answered.

Julian rolled onto his side, inching backward until Garak wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed into his back. “Elim?”

“Yes, Julian?”

Now that he was facing away, he didn’t have to repress the grin that forced its way onto his face. “Do you think the Garak from the other side will ever make his way over here?” Instead of a smack on his bottom as he’d been expecting, the hand over his chest slid sinuously down between his legs. 

“Isn’t one Garak enough for you?” He rubbed along the flaccid length and twisted gently while sucking on the back of Julian’s neck. 

“Oh yes, quite,” he agreed breathlessly. “But fair’s fair, you know?”

A scaly leg worked its way between his own, the knee rising until Garak’s thigh brushed his sack. “I have no intention to play fair.” He bit down on the taut neck, licking the skin between his teeth. 

Julian’s breath hitched as the hand began stroking up and down his length, and a foot to lightly caress the skin of his leg. Garak had always been adept at multitasking. What would  _ two _ Garak’s be like? “What if we tied him down?” The hand and foot froze. “I’ve heard he’s rather submissive. Just think of what we could do. Or ask  _ him _ to do.”

Garak squeezed his cock tight enough to make Julian wonder if he’d gone too far. Was it arousal, or a warning? The mouth left his shoulder to hiss in Julian’s ear. “You wanton, lustful, little--” the rest of the words went untranslated as he growled and clicked aggressively in Cardassian. Julian found himself flipped onto his back as the blanket was shoved away and Garak straddled him. Astounded, Julian just lay there and let the man nip and nudge his way down his chest before wrapping his mouth around his cock. His hands reached up to do something under Julian’s back, sliding down under his buttocks and legs. Still bobbing his head up and down along the shaft, he shifted on the bed, pulling something out from under them. Julian barely paid it mind as the feel of slick lips rubbed along his velvety skin. The mouth stilled for a moment, holding him deep inside as Garak laid the flat of his tongue along the underside, then flicked against the raphe. Julian cried out.

When the stimulation stopped, he opened his eyes and glanced down. The image of Garak looking up at him, Julian’s cock stuffed in his mouth, nearly undid him. He watched as the Cardassian slowly slid back, the phallus slipping out amongst strands of saliva. Getting up on all fours, Garak made direct eye contact and maintained it as he crept his way over Julian’s body. Mesmerized, the human didn’t notice what was in his hands until too late. 

Garak rapidly grabbed Julian by both wrists and yanked them up over his head, knotting one in the sheet that he’d slipped off the bed. He then wound it around the headboard and tied in the other hand. Julian was too startled to even resist, but also had to admit that he wasn’t terribly inclined to, either. Satisfied with his work, Garak glowered down at him. “If I had known your disposition towards bondage, my dear, we would have done this  _ much  _ sooner.”

Julian puffed out a laugh. “I was talking about tying up  _ someone else, _ not myself.” 

Garak shrugged as if it hardly mattered. “Shall we bind your feet as well, or do you know how to behave yourself?”

A thrill of excitement and maybe a touch of fear shot through Julian’s limbs. He’d never been talked to that way before, and it was considerably more provocative than he’d expected. His lower regions certainly approved. “Um, I suppose it depends on what you plan on doing next.”

Giving him a  _ look _ , Garak shook his head. “That answers that.” He paced over to the wardrobe, where he pulled out another sheet. He also reached down into his clothes and retrieved a knife. To Julian’s consternation, he used it to split the fabric in two.

“Hey!”

“It’s replicated, hardly a loss. I’ll make you a new one.” Garak returned to the bed. “A whole set. Perhaps in Romulan velvet. They may have a dull sense of color, but no one can beat the textures of their textiles.” He spoke so calmly, as if this was another one of their lunch discourses, and not as if he was spreading Julian’s legs by winding material around each of his ankles and tying it somewhere under the bed. “Tell me, did you enjoy being a ‘middle,’ as the captain so eloquently put it?”

Julian sucked in a shuddery breath. His nerves were almost tight enough to overwhelm his arousal. “Um, yes?”

Garak bent over, running a hand up the inside of one leg. “There’s no need to look so skittish, my dear. Don’t you trust me?”

“Is that a joke? Garak, you’ve  _ told _ me not to trust you. Repeatedly.”

The tailor tutted. He placed a hand on each of Julian’s thighs, and the human half expected him to claw at them. Instead, he leaned down and placed a small kiss on the tip of his cock. “But have I ever led you astray in the bedroom?” His eyes were fathomless, and Julian felt himself drowning. He flopped back. “And here I prefer Elim.” Garak stepped away again to rummage through Julian’s closet. He kneeled down in a corner and fiddled with something. 

Realizing what he was doing, Julian yelped. “That’s  _ private! _ ” He struggled futilely against his bonds. That compartment was supposed to be a secret, and locked. Of course Garak knew about it.

He returned, grinning slyly. “And this will never leave your room, I promise.” In his hand was a thick, firm, black silicone shaft with ribbing. How-- _ how _ had he known that was Julian’s favorite? Garak stalked back to the bed, where he placed the rod on the remaining sheet, sliding it up to nestle between Julian’s cheeks but no further. He patted the thigh next to it fondly before climbing up to kneel between the spraddled legs. 

Julian watched as Garak bent down to nibble his way up a thigh, dainty and quick. “You can go harder,” he volunteered. 

The Cardassian hummed against him and switched to the other leg. This time, he bit down with teeth, pinching the flesh tightly before sliding on to each new spot. He moved steadily inward until his hair brushed over Julian’s scrotum. There, he nuzzled into the coarse, curly hair and inhaled deeply. He hummed again before exhaling, releasing a puff of air to tickle the tender skin. “I see that you’ve removed all of the fur here, covering your--what did you call them? Oh yes, your balls. Ours are concealed, of course, but on Cardassia we would call them ‘stones.’”

“You can call them whatever you want,” Julian whimpered, “as long as you give them attention.”

“You’re in no place to be giving orders,” Garak reprimanded. But all the same, he took one into his mouth, tugging down. Julian could feel the heat enfolding it, as well as the tickle of air on the base of his cock as Garak breathed through his nose. The tailor slid his hands up under Julian’s arse and squeezed as he let one side of the organ fall out of his lips to suck in the other. 

Julian tried to draw his legs up, but found them firmly kept in place by the sheets. The burning want under Garak’s ministrations was starting to drive him mad. “Gar--Elim,” he muttered, not sure what he was asking for. 

Garak scooted back, deliberating. When his eyes lit up, Julian jumped. He reached for the object resting in the sheets and pressed a button, then adjusted a switch. But he just held it, staring up at the doctor. Julian waited, anticipation making him quiver. What settings had he chosen? Hot or cold? Buzzing, pulsing, or throbbing? Fast, medium, slow? He realized that was precisely why Garak hadn’t done anything yet. He wanted Julian to lie there  _ wondering _ and  _ waiting _ for a minute. 

He must have added lubrication at some point, because as soon as it met his rim, Julian could feel the slick coating. It pressed in, just the head, and it was so  _ warm _ . But not hot. He expected Garak to proceed tortuously slowly, but instead it just slid right in up to the hilt. Julian cried out, feeling every inch of his insides compressed around the shaft. Then Garak pressed another button, and it began to work. Throbbing. On medium.

Julian’s hands clenched up as he yanked downward, but the sheets around them just held tight, pulling at his wrists. It was like having a deep heart beating inside his arse. His cock strained upward, so hard it almost hurt. When Garak started untying one leg, he tried anchoring it on the bed so he could thrust against the pressure, but his ankle was held firm. The tailor closed Julian’s legs, tying one knee to the other, crushing his sack and tightening the muscles around the toy. “Oh god, oh god,” he started to mumble, feeling every pulse and and beat of blood in his groin. “Oh prophets, Elim, I’m going to come soon.”

Garak climbed back up and blew cool air over Julian’s prick. It soothed and eased the pressure, just a little. Enough. He oh-so-carefully sat over the human’s hips, barely touching skin to skin, and sighed lustily. “I don’t suppose you’d let me take a picture of you like this?”

Julian tried to clear the haze in his head. “Wha--? No. No, we’ve tried enough new things for today.”

“Oh, but you’re so beautiful, my dear. And it’d be only for me,” Garak wheedled sweetly. 

“Fine,” Julian gasped. “Fine, but only if you let me get one of you next time.”

Garak leaned just slightly away to pick up Julian’s padd from the bedside table. Eyeing his masterpiece critically, he arranged the hair a little here and there, then tilted Julian’s head upward and to the side, exposing his long throat. “Hmm. I’m going to have to leave you for a moment.” Oh gods, what was he getting now? But all Garak did was remove himself from the bed to get a better angle. He remained silent for long enough that Julian began to wonder just how many pictures he was taking. At least it was Julian’s padd, and he could wipe the storage later. 

Garak returned. “I need to see your eyes,” he murmured discontentedly. He adjusted Julian’s head again, this time to look down and to the side where he’d been standing before. “Open your mouth, there’s a dear.” He ran a finger over the bottom lip before poking it inside. Julian sucked hungrily at it, desperate for any contact between the two of them. Too soon, it was withdrawn, but pressed down to remind him to keep his mouth open. It was staggeringly easy, considering how much he was panting.

Garak stepped back from the bed again, angling the padd for a few more shots. He looked so distant and uninterested, and Julian would have been dismayed if it weren’t for the darkened smudges all across his shoulder ridges and inside his chufa, as well as the tip of his pr’Ut beginning to emerge from his ajan. He almost wished he could get his own picture of Garak just like that. In their own ways, they were both debauched. 

The tailor must have seen something in his eyes, because he negligently let the padd slip out of his fingers and onto the clothes scattering the floor. Gazes locked, he glided back to the bed and lowered himself over Julian. Never looking away, he guided the human cock back inside himself, sinking down with a deep, dark groan. His eyes fluttered closed, and Julian felt himself follow.

Lost in the dark now, all he could feel was the sensations of being filled with a hot, pulsating rod and filling a cool, thrumming orifice. Garak rippled above him, surging his hips deep into Julian’s as he rode to his fulfillment. 

Julian thrust as best he could by tightening his rear and lifting, which only served to increase the throbbing sensation tucked inside him. This was even better than earlier, better than anything else they’d done so far. He vowed to extend his trust to Garak much more often behind closed doors. 

His upper back stretched so wonderfully that he knew the muscles would be absolutely loose when they finished, but his lower back was starting to grow sore. He couldn’t keep up the grueling pace for much longer. “Elim, harder please,” he begged. “Faster, more, oh, oh gods…”

Garak fell forward, bracing himself on either side of Julian’s chest before pumping away with renewed gusto and vigor. He was whimpering on every exhale, shaking and stuttering against the body under his. 

Julian opened his eyes to drink in one more image. “Touch yourself. Please. I can’t hold on any longer.”

The tailor took his pr’Ut in hand and viciously yanked at it a few times before twisting roughly at the base to rub over his irrlun. He threw his head back, crying out as silvery globs of ejaculate oozed out over the doctor’s stomach.

A wave of prickling heat washed over Julian, the painful but exquisite heat in his cock exploding out like a solar flare while the pressure on his prostate released a second, deeper thrum that left his legs numb. Flashes of white exploded behind his eyes and he lost his vision for a second.

His muscles twitched and leapt for a minute afterward, still sending wayward messages to limbs that were no longer responding. “You win,” he rasped from a parched throat. 

Garak rolled off of him. “I do?”

“I don’t think I could survive a second Garak.” With the last strength left in his body, he constricted the muscles in his arse, pushing the toy out. He slumped, feeling like his bones had turned into jelly.

“What a shame. After having practiced on you, I was just getting used to the idea.” The tailor sounded genuinely disappointed.

“ _ Practiced _ ? I refuse to believe you haven’t done that before. What are you planning to do, tie us  _ both _ up?”

Garak sat up, running his gaze over the furniture. “It  _ is _ a small bed for three,” he mused. “Perhaps, if he was on his back on the bottom, then you could lie on top of  _ him _ , and I could tie you together…” He tapped his chin in thought. “Then you could still have the middle that you seem to enjoy so thoroughly and I could mount the both of you.” His eyes smouldered.

Julian quivered in response. “I have no idea if you’re serious or not.” And he wasn’t sure how much he wanted him to be. “For now, though, could you untie me please? My hands and feet have lost their feeling.”

Garak solicitously complied, even being so kind as to rub each extremity back into awareness again. He disappeared into the refresher and returned with a wet towel, which he used to wipe down Julian’s chest, stomach, and nethers before attending to his own. 

The sheets were discarded, but the comforter was drawn back up over them when they cuddled together. Julian was just drifting off when the front door beeped. He grumbled.

“I could get that if you like,” Garak offered softly. It was a generous proposal, and a meaningful one. While everyone knew that he and the Cardassian were involved, answering his door seemed a bit more intimate. Like they might be more than friends with benefits. The door warbled again.

“Okay,” Julian allowed. He watched as Garak pulled on his trousers and donned his robe, leaving it untied. It was sexy and domestic all at once, and the human felt his heartstrings twinge a little bit. The tailor strolled into the living room and Julian sat up, all of his exhaustion falling away at the idea of someone being greeted by a half-naked ex-spy at his door. There was an exchange of words, one voice fluid and melodious--that would be Garak--and the other somehow both hard and mischievous. It sounded vaguely like… Jadzia?

He realized belatedly that his uniform was still on the floor out front, so he rummaged around for a pair of joggers and a t-shirt. Emerging into the next room, he was surprised to see Garak speaking to a short-haired version of Dax, who he had not yet permitted access. She smirked at him, then Julian. “I heard there’s a party here. Care if I join?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. I’m going to read this again.
> 
> I’ll let you decide whether or not they let her in.
> 
> As always, credit goes to Tinsnip for the Cardassian anatomy.


End file.
